


Second

by thedarknesswithin (babylxxrry)



Series: drabbles [13]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Kinda, M/M, Other, SePTXCC17, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-26 00:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12047385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylxxrry/pseuds/thedarknesswithin
Summary: it's the second night. mitch tries his best.





	Second

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [30 Days of Drabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938431) by [thedarknesswithin (babylxxrry)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylxxrry/pseuds/thedarknesswithin). 



> this is for prompt 14 of SePTXCC17 but has no plot ties to it, read it as a standalone :P i really loved this and wanted it separate from the rest of the prompts so here it is. enjoy

It’s the second night. Mitch isn’t _jealous_ of this boy Scott’s having over for a second night, not really. He just thinks Scott could do so much better. There isn’t much Mitch can do about it, though, their rules allow second nights as long as they mention it to the other person. The only think he _could_ do would be to tell Scott it’s making him uncomfortable, which it is, but he would never, ever stop Scott from doing something that makes him happy. He’ll last another night, then Scott will be all his again.

Fuck.

The second night turns into the second week. The boy’s over half the day most days, and the ones he’s not, Scott’s out with him somewhere.

Wine nights get cancelled. Longstanding dinner-and-a-movie dates get rain-checked because the boy wants to go out and watch a game or wants to Netflix and chill with Scott.

Mitch lets it go. He goes to his room and journals out his thoughts like he’s writing to Scott instead of talking like they usually do.

_We haven’t talked in a while, Scotty, have we? It’s been a lot, lately, what with you and your new boyfriend and shit. Don’t give me the not-boyfriends spiel, love, I’m not blind. Am I happy for you? I guess. I don’t think he’s good for you, he’s holding you back, but it’s your life. Live it, Scotty, live your life to the fullest it can be. I’ll be here to hold you if something goes wrong. I love you. Really._

The second week turns into the second month. Mitch is struggling. Scott’s not around as much, electing to spend most of his time at the boy’s house, and it’s too quiet at home. There’s no sharing coffee, no banter, not even existing in silence together, curled together and scrolling Instagram. It’s okay, though, Mitch will learn to stop ordering Scott a coffee that’ll end up in the trash, will learn to bottle up all of his feelings until he can pour them out into his journal, often ending up in tears.

_I miss you, Scott, I miss you so much. I can’t do this alone. I can’t keep going like this. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I need you around. You’re my anchor, my home. This house isn’t even home without you, as stupidly cliché that is. I miss you. Remember when we used to spend every waking moment together and when we used to cuddle and laugh and just be around each other? Remember all those times you’ve talked me down from attacks and I brought you back up from your own mind? Does he know how to do that? I’m not doing great in terms of that, but it’s okay, I just want you to be okay, I just want you to be safe and loved and happy and all that’s good in the world._

_I miss you._

_I love you._

_Come back soon, Scotty._

The second month turns into the second year. There’s a ring. There’s tears. There’s bells. There’s cheers.

Then there’s silence.

Mitch sits in Scott’s old room, in the middle of the floor where his bed used to be. There’s nothing left here, just old memories of laughter and dancing and music and long talks about their future, about keeping things open and undefined for now, about how they’d always come back to each other.

There are broken promises, too. Old promises about forever. Old promises about love. Things break when they get old. People think promises are different, that they’re eternal, but they’re not. Promises are just like everything else. They’re forgotten. They break. They fade away like they never existed in the first place.

_I hope you’re happy, Scotty, I really do. I really love you, still. It’s just gonna be a curse forever, I think. I hope we can get together someday and have dinner. I’m glad you have him, I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all I need._

_Just. Scott. Please tell me something._

_Was I ever your first choice?_

_You know I’ve always been second. You’ve been there with me. You’ve seen it all._

_You were always my first choice, Scotty._

_All I ever wanted was to be someone’s first choice, just once._

_I love you._

 

 

-fin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment or kudos if you were sobbing


End file.
